


it’s you (because no one else makes sense)

by themetgayla



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/F, Sorry if it's OOC, kinda fluffy? idk, soft rosa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 16:13:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themetgayla/pseuds/themetgayla
Summary: a little extra scene from 1x10 "thanksgiving"





	it’s you (because no one else makes sense)

**Author's Note:**

> so i decided to try writing a short rosa/amy oneshot, because the pairing is so underappreciated, and there's so much quality content! of course, i ship peraltigo and dianetti with all my heart, but the rosa/amy pairing holds a special place in my heart too. enjoy!

“How do I even get Holt’s attention? He sure does spend a lot of time with Peralta. Maybe I need to be more naughty.” Amy turns innocently to Rosa, who chokes slightly on her beer from the seat beside her. Amy watches, concern filling her eyes, as she taller woman presses a hand to her chest and heaves a few times, trying to clear her throat.

Gina smirks, her lips curving into a knowing smile as she lifts her... concoction of alcohol to her lips, causing Rosa to shoot her a glare. It’s one of her _don’t say a word or I’ll rip your throat out_ glares, which leaves Amy beyond confused. She just shrugs, and raises her shot glass to her lips, frowning as the strong smell of vodka wafts up to her nose.

Rosa watches, amused, as Amy tips the glass back slowly, wincing as the alcohol hits her tongue. At Rosa’s snort, Amy slams the glass back down and snaps her head towards the taller woman, her eyes narrowing into slits as she flips her hair over her shoulder. “Hey, I can act out.” The words are almost petulant, like a stubborn toddler who isn’t getting their way, which Amy supposes kind of ruins her attempt at acting like a badass.

Rosa doesn’t seem to mind though, because her eyes darken and cloud over with something Amy _thinks_ is lust. But then again, how would she know? It’s not like she’s ever engaged in _lusty acts_ with anyone. (Her three sorry excuses for sexual acts could _not_ be considered lusty in any way. They’d left her rather disappointed — she’d had to sneak off to finish herself with a vibrator every time. And she _definitely_ hadn’t thought of Rosa the last time. She also didn’t moan her name into her palm as she came either. Definitely not.)

“Please do.” Rosa’s voice is suddenly husky, and the words are spoken with a hint of desperation that lights a fire in Amy’s stomach. Her heart thumps rapidly in her rib cage as she stares at Rosa, her own eyes darkening.

Amy thinks Gina may be filming them — she’s gone unusually silent, save for the occasional slip or her drink from the four straws stuck haphazardly into her glass — but she can’t find in it herself to care. Rosa’s eyes are on hers, flicking down to her lips and back up to her eyes almost uncontrollably.

“Watch me.”

And then Amy wraps her fingers around the shot glass and knocks it back, barely flinching as the burning liquid slides down her throat. The hungry stare Rosa’s fixed her with gives Amy another surge of confidence, and before she can really register what she’s doing — and just how dangerous it is — she’s flinging the shot glass backwards over the shoulder, sending it flying towards the bar.

There’s a loud thump from behind them, and Amy whips round just fast enough to see the bartender toppling over, clutching his hand to his head. Amy springs out of her chair, dashing towards the bar, panic bubbling up in her chest. _Shit, I just knocked someone out. I’ve never done that before. Dammit, now I’m never going to make Captain now. Way to go Santiago, always fucking things up. Now Rosa probably thinks you’re an idiot. Shit— Rosa thinks I’m an idiot._

Amy only realises she’s standing still, frozen to the spot, eyes wide, body shaking, when she feels surprisingly soft hands land on her shoulders, snapping her out of her panic. Rosa appears in front of her, dark eyes welling up with concern, as Jake and Terry rush to the bartender in front of her. Amy tries to move, tries to go and _help_ , but she _can’t._ Her limbs feel too heavy, and the brunette wonders if she’s actually breathing.

It turns out she’s not.

“Santiago, breathe,” Rosa coaches, running her hands up and down Amy’s arms soothingly. Amy doesn’t have time to wonder how Rosa knows it helps, because she’s too focused on the fact that the taller brunette probably thinks she’s a stupid idiot. _She hates you, she hates you, she hates you._ “Shit Amy, breathe, _please_. Respira, cariño.”

Amy’s eyes flick to Rosa, who’s staring at her, lip pulled between her bottom teeth as she slides her hands down to the smaller brunette’s waist, her fingers digging gently into the skin. The touch grounds Amy slightly, and blinks slowly, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks.

“I’m okay.”

Rosa takes that as a hint to step back, so she does, crossing her arms over her chest a little self-consciously. Behind them, Jake and Terry are sitting with the bartender, and ice pack pressed to his temple. Amy thinks Jake is making jokes, because suddenly the injured man laughs heartily, and Terry shoots Peralta a half-hearted glare.

Sighing softly, Amy tugs at the sleeve of her cardigan and steps forward hesitantly. “Sorry I freaked out. It was totes not planned. Oh god, who even says ‘totes’? I didn’t— I mean I’m not— Wow, I’m not very good at this,” Amy rambles, the words spilling from her mouth before she can swallow them down. Rosa’s watching her, one arched eyebrow pulled up in amusement, her lips quirked upwards into a small smile. A deep pink blush rises to Amy’s cheeks, the flush spreading down her neck and across her chest, disappearing under the neckline of her shirt.

Amy's about to open her mouth again, determined to make up for her anxious babbling, but she doesn't have a chance, because suddenly Rosa's stepping forwards and sweeping her into a kiss. It's soft in a way Amy would never have guessed, because it's _Rosa_. Rosa, who owns dozens of weapons, who snarls death threats at everyone, who climbs out of windows to avoid feelings. But that same Rosa is kissing her with an intoxicating tenderness Amy thinks she might just be addicted to.

Rosa's hands splay across Amy's back as she presses their bodies together, subtly slotting her thigh between the smaller brunette's legs. Amy winds her arms around Rosa's neck, her fingers tangling in her dark, unruly curls, tugging lightly on them. Rosa releases an involuntary moan and runs her hands down Amy's sides, letting them slip down to rest on her lower back.

Only when Amy's throat begins to tighten, her lungs gasping for oxygen, does she pull away, her lips stretching into a wide smile as she peers up at Rosa through thick lashes. The taller brunette stares down at her, affection swimming in her usually hard eyes, and clears her throat quietly.

She suddenly realises that they're being watched — and filmed, by a certain Gina Linetti — because the bar is  _completely_ silent. Amy watches Rosa freeze, her eyes wide and panicked as she swivels round and meets Jake's half proud, half disgusted gaze.

"Nice one, Diaz," he says, breaking the silence, because he knows how she gets. He knows that she always panics when it comes to romance, especially someone as special as Amy Santiago. Jake remembers the day he walked in on Rosa pacing the evidence room, mumbling something under her breath that sounded a lot like  _"why can't you just show some fucking emotion, Diaz? Stop being such a cold bitch. Amy's never going to like you if you can't even have a nice conversation with you"_.

He had, of course, given her one of his amazing pep talks — well, he thinks they're great, but Captain Holt might say otherwise -a and had done his best to calm down Rosa. (It had  _not_ been an easy task — the fiery woman had been teetering on the edge of a metaphorical cliff, barely holding herself together. It's a good thing he'd swooped in at the right time.)

"Thanks Peralta." Rosa smirks at him, the tension slowly seeping from her shoulders as she turns back to Amy, who's staring at her with flushed cheeks, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. "You're a good kisser," the tall brunette says simply, grinning.

Amy beams in response, her blush deepening at the compliment. "Thank you. I mean I don't really have much practice. In fact, I went to a seminar a couple of months ago because... well, I guess I was hoping this would happen." The smaller woman trails off, glancing sheepishly around at Captain Holt, who's actually smiling for once. Amy isn't entirely sure she's comfortable for her  _dad_ to be around for this conversation, but she's not about to pass up possibly her only chance to tell Rosa just how strongly she feels about her.

“I hoped it would be too,” Rosa admits, fiddling uncomfortably with the sleeve of her leather jacket. She’s not used to acting on her emotions, let alone showing just how soft she is in front of her whole precinct. “Speak of this again and I’ll stab you  _all_ ,” she snarls, spinning round to shoot daggers at the huddle of people standing around her and Amy.

Amy grins from in front of her, eyes twinkling, her cheeks glowing, her lips still slightly swollen from the kiss. Jake just laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you thought! comments and kudos are much appreciated :)


End file.
